


Sunday Mornings

by ChristinaS412



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gendry is a Baratheon, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Lazy Sundays, Lemon, Lord and Lady of Stormsend, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post S8, Post-Canon, Short One Shot, Smut, mention davos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 04:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristinaS412/pseuds/ChristinaS412
Summary: Gendry decides to sleep in, though there's not much sleeping when Arya's giving him *that* look.





	Sunday Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Ahem, yes...I really don't know where this came from lol but enjoy domestic gendrya.

The first light was beginning to peak through the window, painting the hard washed stone walls of the lords chambers in warm yellow-white tones. Dust mites drifted lazily through the rays at the end of the bed. Gendry hadn’t been able to sleep, waking frequently to cold sweats as the memories of the great war still plagued his dreams. Yet every time he thought to get up and busy himself Arya would shift and drag his attention to her frame pressed firmly against his own. Currently he found himself taking in her features. The way her long lashes fluttered occasionally against her freckled sun-kissed skin cheeks. A faint smile graced her lips where they pressed against the bare skin of his chest, and her hair splayed out wildly in all directions. His right arm had fallen asleep near an hour ago under the weight of her head on his shoulder, yet he refused to wake her. Arya had him in a tight hold, right arm and leg thrown protectively around his torso as the rest of her limbs stretched out leisurely.

 _Besides_ , he reasoned with himself, there were still a few hours before the rest of the castle and neighboring towns would be waking to seek his audience for war reparations. Gendry was intent on this moment for as long as he could.

Pressing a soft kiss to her brow the man paused, closing his eyes at the realization that her presence was still real. Inhaling the sharp pine-mint scrub she used to wash, Gendry felt himself stir at the memory of the North. Where his people preferred sweet berries and refined herbs to bathe in, his wife had never lost her edge.

Arya shifted as though she had sensed his thoughts, right leg dropping to rest just above the dip of his hips. His attention moved with her. Though he tried not to focus entirely on the need that was beginning to pool in his stomach.  

A soft hum bubbled up from her lips as she slowly woke up more and more. The hand that had been curled across his chest stretched down as her muscles ached and cramped from sleep.  Accidentally brushing against his hardening member beneath the linen sheets.

Eyes widened comically at the contact and her cheeks flushed with sudden alertness her storm grey iris’s glancing up to catch his gaze conveying uncertainty at his arousal. Amused that she was still surprised by his desire Gendry rolled to face her more fully, reaching up to cup her chin and pull her mouth to his.

“Good morning m’lady,” he whispered between them, tongue swiping along her lower lip teasingly when they finally broke apart.

At the comment Arya blinked sleepily at the window at their bedside. “Is it already?”

 “’M afraid it is,” he mumbled still focused on drinking in her appearance. _Gods be good_ , he thought watching the linen sheets slide low across her side exposing more skin, _she was gorgeous_.

Glancing curiously at him Arya raised an eyebrow curiously. “Don’t you have things that need doing?” She asked, her voice strengthening as it shook of the last of her sleep.

Gendry grinned at that, pulling her for another searing kiss as he lifted one hand to skim down her exposed side. “Mhm.”

“Better get to them then,” she murmured attempting to pull away just long enough for him to catch the heated look in her eyes. She loved to give him that look just before the world came crashing through their doors. It would drive him wild all day until the two of them found their way tumbling back into bed at the end of the night. _Not today though_ , Gendry thought feeling the last of his resolve give way to hunger.

“-Davos will be waiting for you by now.” Arya added thoughtfully.

Groaning at the thought of the old man loitering outside of their chambers Gendry fell back against the pillows, dragging her on top of him. “Fuck the old man… What goods bein’ a lord if you can’t sleep in every once in a while?”

Unable to hide the wide grin that swept across her face Arya moved to straddle him, leaning close as she cocked her head to one side with a coy glint in her eyes. “I’d much rather fuck you,” she admitted, voice low and breathy. Heat pooled low in his stomach at her words, one calloused palm coming to rest on her hip to keep her in place as he tried to even his breathing. One of her hands stretched down to push back the coal black tendrils of hair that stuck out at odd angles. He had begun to grow out his hair at her behest, and while the mop was a little to shaggy for his taste Gendry enjoyed the feel of Arya’s scarred fingertips weaving their way through it.  

As if she read his mind she shifted her hips forward slowly dragging a rasping moan from his lips. Grip tightening against her hip Gendry fought the instinct to twist and flip her underneath him. He was still learning to replace the memories of Melisandre’s form rutting against him without regard to his own pleasure. The first dozen times Arya had mounted him, he had not been able to find his release, to consumed with flashbacks to enjoy Arya’s soothing presence above him. In time he had learned Arya wasn’t anything like the red witch. Her noises were quiet, half-hushed from a lifetime of staying hidden behind enemy lines on the road. But she loved his hands on her. Oft times cupping his palms in her own when he was lost in pleasure, and keening when his fingertips ran along the curve of her breast to squeeze and pull gently at her nipples.

Finding himself back in the present, hard and pressed against the heat of her, Gendry watched the sunlight play against her pale skin with rapt attention. Mindlessly thumbing the jagged edges of the scars the Waif had given her in Braavos as he tried to memorize every inch of her being.  Gendry rather enjoyed seeing the look in her eye when he kissed those scars just before his tongue delved between her thighs.

A low growl rumbled in his throat Gendry sat up, wrapping his arms around her back and entered her in one swift motion. Her heat already slick with need, Arya gasped as her body worked to seat her fully on his member. The feeling of her surrounding him stole his breath, too focused on the sensation of her walls squeezing him with every movement.

Arya let his eyes find hers before she began to move slowly, taking his lead to rise slanting her hips and dropping against him again. The angle sent a jolt of warmth through him and for a moment Gendry clenched his jaw as he forced himself not to fall over the edge just yet. Resting her elbows on his shoulders her arms wrapped around his neck. Fingers running teasingly along his scalp as she dropped her forehead against his. Strands of her chocolate hair cast around them, keeping his attention centered as her movements quickened, “Right there,” she hummed breaking way from the kiss to throw her head back in bliss as her orgasm washed over her.

Feeling her tighten around him Gendry fought off his own release, wanting this moment to last longer. “Seven hells,” he whispered, voice cracking when she rotated her hips in just the right way. Arms holding her up as she came down from her high Gendry captured her lips in his. Tongue delving between breathless moans to twist against her own, teeth nipping hungrily at one another.

In one fluid motion he tilted his hips, pulling her beneath him. Those trusting grey eyes blown wide in pleasure as he sank down into her. Reaching down to loop underneath her knee and hitch her foot up Gendry groaned at the feeling. This was his favorite position, as the angle tortured her into one blissful orgasm after another. Watching her expressions unfold beneath him, he felt his own release coiling tighter in his balls and quickened his pace wanting her to come one last time before succumbing to the edge.

Held captive as Arya keened upwards, eyes closed as she came again Gendry felt his jaw drop with a groan, spilling his seed with one final slant of his hips. Exhausted, he lost all sense of his limbs and slumped against her form. Their bodies were slick with sweat, dark hair matted against their skin, breathing raggedly as they came down from their high. A bubble of laughter erupted in the silence as Arya stroked his back soothingly. Glancing up at her she hummed in approval before he moved up to lay beside her. The smile that graced her lips mirrored his own.

“What’s so funny?” he wondered pulling her close and draping the linen bed sheet across their naked forms.

“’M just happy is all,” She mumbled suppressing another bubble of laughter.

Snorting at her answer Gendry let himself relax with contentedness. How he had become Lord of Storms End was a puzzle to him. As a matter of fact, most things in his life were since little Arya Stark had wandered into his life. And yet he couldn’t find it in himself to wish it any other way. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> first smutty one shot! Really enjoyed this dynamic  
> leave a like & comment if you did too!  
> (( also does anyone else remember when we used to call smutty one-shots lemons? ))


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